


RWBY AU snippets

by JJLives



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-10-16 01:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17540054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJLives/pseuds/JJLives
Summary: Chapter 6 is up June 4This is going to be a collection of my tumblr scenes/snippets. All will be AU and I will have a similar posting in future for the same type of short stories/snippets for cannon verse.I might expand some if certain chapters get more attention I'm not sure yet.Enjoy





	1. No more

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor am I affiliated with rooster teeth or rwby creators. 
> 
> AN - may expand on these chapters if some garner enough attention. Not sure.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Her voice is soft, if you weren’t so tuned into her every movement, her every breath, blink, turn of her head, everything, you might have missed it. You know the five friends you’ve just run into don’t hear the melodic voice, but you do.  You always do. You turn to her and she refuses to meet your gaze. She lowers her head allowing her hair to fall, obscuring her face from your searching eyes. Her ears are pinned so tightly to her scalp the black fur disappears into the same coloured tresses.  

You reach for her and she steps back, away from your touch.  You take a step forward, needing to get to her, needing to make her look at you, but she shakes her head furiously. “I can’t.” Her voice hardens, cracks, but is resolute nonetheless. She’s suddenly running, and not towards you like she’s done countless times.  She’s running away, and the knife twists in your heart as you realize you might have pushed her too far this time. She’s running from you and you might never get her back.

“Is she okay?”

You barely hear your teammate’s words.  Your friends, basketball, highschool, all fading away.  Nothing matters but the girl currently hell bent on getting as far away from you as she can. Breaking into a run, you push your muscles to drive harder, faster, needing to catch up to her, cursing when you round the corner of the food court and lose sight of her. Frantically you spin, searching, thinking, praying, but she’s gone.  You search every inch of the mall and don’t find her.

She’s not answering her phone and you’re suddenly panicking. She won’t. She can’t. She wouldn’t cut you out. But you know it’s a lie.  She would. She’d been telling you for weeks, months even, that she was on the edge, that you had one more chance, and with one ill-fated appearance of your friends you’d used that one chance up.  

You rush out the main doors, and sprint around the corner of the building. You keep telling yourself she wouldn’t be cruel enough to leave without telling you. She would know you’d be searching for her.  But even as your mind rationalizes it you know you’re wrong.

Ripping your phone from your back pocket you dial her number once again.  It goes straight to her messenger.

“Fuck.” Hot tears are blazing trails down your cheeks.  Your heart hurts, you can’t breathe and you need to think.  This isn’t helping but the thought of her actually leaving you has you leaning against the building for support.  You force your lungs to expand, and your hands to stop shaking. You need to find her. Her friends.  

She would have called one of them for a ride, having come with you.  You dial Sun’s number and bring the phone to your ear, pacing, toes scraping the pavement, you growl as his messenger comes up.  

“Call me!” You all but yell into the phone ending the call.  

You’re about to dial another number when you hear a noise.  Following it your round the next corner of the building and find her. She’s on the ground, legs pulled tightly to her chest and her face is buried between her elbows, body shaking with similar tears that still flow from your own eyes. And it pains you more than anything, because you’ve caused this.  You’ve been the cause of this pain for her, so many times. And she’s right. It isn’t fair.

“Blake,” you whisper, not wanting to startle her. But your voice breaks and little more than a squeak makes it past your lips.  You kneel in front of her, reaching your arms out without touching. You don’t think you could take her pulling away from your touch again. “Please.”

Her head shakes rapidly as she lifts to stare at you with tear filled eyes, a continuous shadow streams from both amber orbs, mascara tainted tears dropping from her chin.  A fresh wave of your own fall at the sight. She shakes her head again and you mimic her.

“No,” you plead again.  

“Yang…” a piece of your heart shatters the way her voice quivers saying your name. “I can’t.” She releases her death grip of her legs to swipe the trails on her face. “I can’t.”

“I know.” And you do, because this is it.  You don’t have any more time to figure it out.  She’s been patient. She’s been forgiving. She let you love her in silence, in secret, like she’s not worth sharing to the world.  But she is, and that’s not how you wanted to make her feel. But what you meant to do and what you are doing are two different things.  How can you justify anything that makes her feel like this?

She stands and you follow, on autopilot, your body just reacting to the need to not let her leave.

“Then don’t stop me,” her voice isn’t harsh, or accusing. It doesn’t break, or waver, it just sounds tired, exhausted, finished. She takes a step to round the corner you’ve just come from and you can’t let her leave.  You should respect her request, she’s been living by your rules for so long that you should give her this one win. But you can’t. You can’t lose her.  You won’t.

She stops before you can say anything and it’s only after you feel a tug on your shoulder that you realize your hand is around her wrist. She tugs again, harder, trying to break your hold, but you bring your other hand to hold hers more steadily.  

“Stay,” you beg.

“I can’t, Yang.” She doesn’t look or turn to you, she just tugs again. “It’s not fair for you to keep asking me to be your dirty little secret.  I can’t-“ her voice cuts off as her shoulders shake, sobbing once more. She pulls hard at her wrist, putting her entire weight into the effort and you brace against her strength, moving with her so as not to hurt her or jarr her shoulder.  You fingers rub apologetically at the skin they’re squeezing a little too roughly. “I can’t!”

“You won’t have to.” You say the words before processing them, because they’re the only words you know will work right now.  You’re proven correct as she turns to face you. So many emotions show on her face and you quickly try to process all of them: hurt, betrayal, anger, worry, skepticism, love, and hope.  After everything you’ve put her through she still loves you and she still believes you’re capable of doing the right thing.

You’ll lose her if you don’t, and you can’t stand the thought.  The past half hour has been enough of a wake up call. If you lose her, you’re going to lose a part of yourself.  And nothing is worth hurting you both like that.

“I won’t,” you step forward, bringing one hand to wipe her remaining tears, caressing her damp, puffed cheek.  She’s still the most beautiful girl you’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s the gentlest, most loving, funny, intelligent person you’ve ever know and she deserves to be happy, she deserves the world.  And you want to be the one to give it to her. “Not anymore.” Her eyes plead with you, because you’ve said similar before. It hurts she can’t trust you, but you understand why. “It’s a habit now and I can’t say for the next little while I won’t pull away out of reflex.” You wrap your arms around her and place a gentle kiss to her forehead. She sinks into your touch, wrapping her own arms around your middle, using you as her support.  “But I will fix this, us. I promise.”

You pull back and wipe the last tear from her cheek and grab her hand.  You pull, leading her back around to the main door of the building. You smile at her, bright and wide and her ears prick forward and eyes sparkle just a tiny bit.  

You touch your lips to hers, right outside of the mall’s main doors, people break apart to go around you. Some you sense stop to stare, most continue on as if you’re only a slight nuisance standing in the way.   When she opens her eyes after you pull back, the anger is gone from them and she’s staring back at you with so much love and hope you vow never to disappoint her again.

“Yang,” you hear a friend call to you. Breaking your gaze you turn to acknowledge them.  Your five teammates are waving as they skip their way to your side.  They eye how your arms are still wrapped loosely around Blake’s middle, but you ignore them, gripping the back of her shirt a little tighter so you don’t accidentally pull away.  “Do you and Blake want to join us for a movie, it’s starting in twenty.”

Turning back you silently ask if she wants to go home or continue their outing.  Whatever she wants you’ll agree to. She nods almost imperceptibly. And you turn back to your friends.

“Sure,” you respond moving to wrap one arm around Blake’s shoulder, pulling her through the doors, entering the mall once more.  Your friends fall in step around the two of you. “But you all have to keep your damn thoughts to yourself if I can’t help macking on my girlfriend during the film, got it?”

“Girlfriend?” A few ask in unison, and you feel their eyes raking over the two of you.  Judging.

Your fingers twitch on Blake’s shoulder even though you try to still them.  It’s nerve wracking because although Blake is worth more than any of them, coming out to your closest friends is always supposed to be hard, right?  

A soft hand is gripping yours suddenly and you look to find Blake smiling up at you, her hand steadying yours at her shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking comfort in the fact you’ve just made Blake happy.  

“Yeah,” You eye each of your friends in turn, looking for any negative energies.  “Any of you got a problem with that?”

“No Cap,” they all rush to reassure you and suddenly they drag Blake in on some story about you fumbling in the last tournament she wasn’t able to come watch.

When you hear her laughter at your own expense you realize no matter how many people that will blame, condemn and shame you for being with her, it doesn’t matter.  

You can handle their hate as long as you have her love.


	2. Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Blake is dragged to a high school party against her will, running into Yang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: This has sexy connotations, but no sex so... M for safe but really I don’t think it needs that rating

I don’t know why I allow them to drag me here.  I hate parties, despise them, and they know that.  They say they’re just being good friends and getting me out of the house.  I like my weekends in, love the solitude of reading a good book. I see enough of these pissants during the week I don’t need to see them drunk on top of the rest I already unfortunately know about them.  

Sun and Ilia drag me forward, like they think if they take their hands off me I’ll run.  I hate how well they know me. It’s totally unfair. It’s also loud, more than I’m comfortable with.  My cat ears throb and I pin them down to reduce their displeasure. How can anyone think this is a fun way to spend an evening?  

I sneer at a football player hunched over the bushes as my _friends_ push me through the door.  I’m not even sure whose house this is - one of the popular students probably.  Ilia drifts off with a pointed look at Sun. He takes up a protective stance behind me and I know it’s more to keep me from bolting than it is to keep others away from me.  They know how irritated I get, especially when noise is involved. I have enough problems tuning out annoyances as it is.

Ilia returns with three red cups full of liquid and I grab two from her hands, downing one before taking a healthy sip of the other.

“That one was mine!” Sun compliains over my shoulder.  His voice is loud to carry over the speakers and screams coming from our classmates but he’s too close and I nearly hiss at him when his voice reverberates in my head painfully.

“Go get your own then.”

He shoots me an apologetic look, knowing his mistake but is quick to leave me in Ilia’s care.  

“Want to dance?” Ilia asks and I shake my head.  I’m not in the mood, my head hurts and the smells are getting to me.  Body odour mixed with the sweet scent of alcohol does not create a pleasant aroma.  Cursing both Ilia and Sun as their features don’t affect their senses like mine. They don’t get the pleasure of experiencing parties like I do.

Sun returns with more cups and I finish the half full one in my hand at the same time reaching for a full one in his.  

“Maybe you should slow down?” Sun questions and I glare at him.

“It’s either you go back and get me another one from where ever you found these or I’m leaving.  These are the only things keeping my headache slightly at bay.”

He follows his knee-jerk reaction, rushing back in the direction he’d come from.

Ilia sighs beside me and I watch her observing the dance floor.

“Go,” I tell her, encouraging her to have some fun.  She hates coming to these things alone and I’m never in the mood.  She gives me a wary look. “I won’t go anywhere.” Her look says she doesn’t believe me and I don’t blame her. “Sun’s coming back with another drink.  I won’t leave until I at least have that.”

My eyes follow her as she weaves her way through the crowd.  The makeshift dance floor is in the living room, couches and tables pushed into the wallspace.  Most seats are taken so I don’t even entertain the thought of trying to find one secluded enough for my liking.  I’m better off standing in the small alcove by the stairs that I am in right now. It doesn’t take Ilia long to find a dance partner.  For being a strict lesbian, she surprisingly doesn’t mind dancing with the opposite sex.

I shake my head at the poor dude that must think he has a shot with her.  He is nothing but a distraction for her right now, a prop she’s using to draw in the prey she truly desires.  As I let my eyes wander I realize who Ilia’s man-bait is being used to draw in. Shaking my head all I can do is watch as Ilia tries to bait the flames.  She’s going to get burned but there’s not much I can do about it. Ilia’s played this game enough times to know the drill.

Yang makes a show of ignoring Ilia, playing her own game and I can’t take my eyes away from the show, even when Sun removes the empty glass in my hands, replacing it with another full one.  The noise is thankfully dulled by the buzz the alcohol coursing through my veins. Even though she’s my friend, I can appreciate Ilia’s ability in the hunt, as she calls it. She’s definitely an expert trapper.  Her body moves sensually to the beat, and anyone with eyes can see the boy she’s chosen can’t keep up with her. It’s a shame and that’s the point after all isn’t it? It once again works in her favour as Yang can’t ignore Ilia’s enticing hips or the way the boy, inexperienced as he seems, is incapable of moulding to Ilia’s body like he should be.  

Just the way Yang presses through the crowd is so demanding, so in charge it cause my own throat to close up, even though she’s nowhere near me.  And then Yang’s there, pressing into the pair, guiding Ilia up against her. Ilia follows of course, this being her entire plan to begin with. The boy, cheers at first thinking he’s won the jackpot of both Ilia and Yang, but soon finds they ignore him completely.  It’s kind of sad to watch him realize what’s just occurred, and if he’d been a faunus I’m sure his tail would be between his legs as he sulks away.

“Shit,” Sun breathes, opening his mouth for the first time since he’s returned with my drink.  I realize he’s been watching the same show as me. “I know I have no chance with either of them, for obvious reasons, but like… that’s hot.”

I hum my approval because he isn’t wrong.  Ilia isn’t anything to sneeze at but Yang’s basically the perfect specimen, physically.  She’s got a powerful and voluptuous body, and the girl knows exactly how to use it. She’s dressed in a plain orange crop top and white skirt. The look shouldn’t be anything more than passably cute, but Yang makes it look sexy, and the way she’s dancing so sensually against Ilia is downright sinful.  

Ilia turns, pressing her back into Yang’s hips and Yang’s hands roam over Ilia’s body, guiding her hips, brushing past the bared skin of her midriff before settling, hovered over Ilia’s belt buckle.  Ilia’s arms reach up to tangle in Yang’s wild fiery mane, pulling her impossibly closer.

Even with the distance between us I can see Yang’s lips graze the exposed flesh of ilia’s shoulder.  And it might be the alcohol finally kicking in but I can’t help but imagine those lips grazing my skin instead of hers, to feel those hands on my hips, to feel that soft mane wrapped around my own fingers.  

Ilia turns her head, angling her body in a way that’s unmistakeable, she’s searching for Yang’s lips with her own.  I watch, a voyeur, wanting nothing more than to see the way Yang’s lips move against another’s. But Yang’s head shoots up, pulling away from Ilia at the last second, and suddenly her violet dark irises are connected with mine.  I gulp.

Yang whispers something into Ilia’s ear and gently passes her off to the dancer next to them, not seeing or caring who it is.  It takes me a few moments to catch my breath, to get oxygen in from my lungs and to my useless brain. Yang’s approaching and she has two glasses in her hands.  When did she even have time to pick them up?

“Hey Blake,” she breathes and damn it her voice is just husky enough to have me wanting her to say my name again.  Taking my nearly empty glass she downs the remaining liquid before handing the empty cup to Sun, still at my side. It’s a clear dismissal and he takes it as such, rushing off to some far corner, no doubt to watch our interaction from a safe distance.

I nod to her as she hands me another full glass.  I don’t trust my voice to speak without clearing it but I can’t possibly do that in her presence.  

“Good to see you deciding to join us for once.  We’ve missed you at our little soirées.” She takes a sip of her drink, lifting one brow in a type of challenge.  I know if I don’t say something soon she’s going to know exactly how flustered she’s making me. I’m usually so much better at letting her sex appeal roll right off me, but the alcohol and her performance earlier with Ilia has put me at a disadvantage.  

I take a sip of my own drink, hoping it’s enough to clear my throat.

“We?” I ask, feigning indifference. I’m happily surprised I sound normal.

“Honestly?” She questions, stepping closer.  She wraps one arm around my waist and leans in to whisper into my ear. I can feel her warm breath tickling my neck, the exact places I’d just imagined her lips not long ago. “It would be more accurate to say _I’ve_ missed you.”

She knows she doesn’t need to get this close for me to hear her.  She’s doing it to break my resolve and she’s doing a pretty good job of it so far.  Hell I wouldn’t put it passed her to have planned the whole Ilia show as a way to rile me up.  

“You barely know me.” I state, keeping my voice even.

“Maybe I’d like to change that.” Her lips brush lightly against my earlobe and I tremble a little.  It’s not fair she has such control. She has to have noticed, her arms still wrapped around me, fingers resting feather-light against my exposed hips of my low cut jeans.  I curse my choice of clothing. “Dance with me.”

It’s not a question but I shake my head in the negative anyway. I take a large mouthful from my cup and swallow it trying to get any of my nerve or backbone to return.  It doesn’t. In fact, It disappears completely as she steps behind me, squeezing into the narrow space between the wall and my back. Her free hand is on my waist, traveling the skin, pressing under my loose fitting top.  My free hand falls to grip her thigh behind me. I curse the automatic reaction. She smells good too, like citrus and honey and the rest of the unpleasant scents disappear as all my senses focus on her. I finish the drink in my cup and toss it into the corner, not trusting my body not to spill it on myself. My hand finds hers on my waist and I grip it, telling myself it’s to stop her from wandering, but know deep down I want to make sure she doesn’t pull away.  

“See, not so bad is it?”  

It takes me a moment to realize what she’s talking about, but then I notice the room is swaying not because my eyes are unfocused from the alcohol, but because she’s been manipulating my body.  We’re dancing, even if I denied her. It’s nothing like the dance she shared with Ilia, we’re just swaying really, but her hand is still burning pleasantly against my skin and I can feel her hips moving with mine expertly.  Fuck, the way her body fits against mine, and the way it feels has me unconsciously pressing further into her. Or maybe I’m completely aware of what I’m doing and just in denial.

The rim of her glass is pressed gently against my lips in offering.  I don’t know when it happened, but I’m instantly aware I’d take anything she decides to offer me tonight.  Her lips ghost along my shoulder as I drink my fill from her cup. Not able to take it anymore I grab the cup from her hands and spin in her arms.  She’s surprised when I mimic her actions and hold the cup to her lips.

“Finish it.” I whisper.  

She hears me even over the pounding speakers.  When she’s done I toss it to the side, meeting the same fate as mine.  She smirks down at me and I curse not wearing heels as she has too much height advantage over me right now. I look to her lips and the corners of her mouth stretch more.

“Whatcha gonna do there kitten?” She’s expecting me to kiss her and I would be lying if I said it didn’t cross my mind, but I despise being at a disadvantage and there’s only one way I can think to even the playing field.

I grab her hand and all but drag her to the dance floor.  I know she doesn’t mean for me to hear but the chuckle that escapes her lips spurs me on.  I want to show her I can be just as alluring as Ilia, that I can elicit reactions from her just as well as she can from me.  I let go of her hand, hearing her surprised “oh” before making a beeline to the next most beautiful girl on the dance floor. Ilia’s disappeared which I’m thankful for.  This would be kind of awkward otherwise.

I smile sweetly at the random girl I’ve found, having seen her probably in the halls at school, but for the life of me I can’t remember her name.  Doesn’t matter really anyway. I find her rhythm before spinning pressing my back into her. She’s tentative at first, keeping her hands respectfully on my hips.  Knowing that’s not enough to have the effect I’m going for I guide her hands to my waist. She takes the hint and allows her hands to freely wander from there. For a brief moment the alcohol and the thrum of the speakers takes over and I close my eyes, feeling the hum of the beat and the softness of another’s hands on me.  But then I remember, Yang. I open my eyes and she’s where I left her, staring at me. Her face is a mixture of awe and predator, which thrills me more than terrifies me.

I press further into the nameless girl at my back, bringing my hand to wrap around the back of her neck I pull.  She moves forward, guided by my movement and suddenly her lips are ghosting the soft skin of my neck. Her hand snakes lower, a couple fingers finding their way below the hem of my jeans.  I arch my back as I stare at Yang the whole time through a half lidded gaze. I know exactly what I’m doing and I can see what the image is doing to her. She doesn’t like that her toy has found someone else to play with.  

Yang struts forward, grabbing my hand from where it’s resting covering the girl’s low on my waist.  I’d like to think Yang pulled me away, tugged me roughly to detach the girl from my back, but I can’t.  I move willingly, and Yang’s anger is doused at the realization. I’m all hers and she knows it.

She places my hand on her shoulder before putting both hers on my waist, slipping one leg between mine she brings our bodies impossibly close.  I curl my fingers into the soft hair at the nape of her neck, scratching lightly, I learn she likes that particular motion as her eyes darken and she pulls me more firmly against her.  All I can do is really hang on as she guides us to the beat, but her thigh between mine is way too distracting. I think she knows it because when I suddenly turn to press my back into her she snorts. I don’t really care at her taking pleasure in pushing my buttons anymore because she’s working my body perfectly.  Her hands waste no time in roaming my front. They inch up my shirt to gain more access to my skin and dip dangerously low, teasingly, digits sneak passed the hem of my jeans, at the dip on the inside of my hip. Her touch sends shocks through me and all I can do is tighten my hold on the back of her neck and the fabric covering her thigh rolling tantalizing behind me.  

Her lips don’t just ghost across my skin this time they’re pressing into it. My nails dig into the skin at the back of her neck and I hear Yang’s sharp inhale before a barely noticeable growl rumbles from deep in her throat.  It’s like the best and worst thing I could hear at the moment. Because not only is it the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, it’s unfortunately also my undoing. I spin back to her and crash my lips to hers. She reciprocates, but has enough sense to keep us moving to the beat.  There are still some bystanders who haven’t noticed the change in us, me really, and she’s trying to keep it that way.

“Take me somewhere.” I pant against her lips.

“Where?” She has the audacity to smile at me.  I’m about to combust and she’s still playing with me. 

“Anywhere,” I try again. “As long as we’re alone.”

I lean forward, needing to feel her lips on mine again but she pulls back, just out of reach.  She leans forward again, but instead of latching our lips she guides them along my jaw, only stopping when her warm breath tickles the skin around my ear.  

She practically moans and I shiver once more against her body. “You were never meant to be a quick conquest, Blake.” Her tongue darts out to taste the skin below my ear before her mouth is engulfing my earlobe.  She nibbles gently and the next moan is mine. Her once warm breath feels cold on the damp skin now and It sends a separate pleasure through my body. I don’t even want to think about how little it would take for Yang to finish the job.  How close just dancing with her has brought me. “This is going to be a slow chase between you and I.”

“Fuck.” I gulp, fighting to gain control of my body.  

As if she knows what I need she pulls away, creating space between our bodies and the loss of her heat upsets me even though my skin is still on fire.

“Will you go to dinner with me-“

“Yes”

“-Tomorrow?”

She chuckles, amused at my hurried answer, but she could literally ask me anything right now and the answer would be the same.  

“Good, now I don’t know about you but I’m in need of some fresh air.” I nod because fresh air is about the only thing that might sober and calm my nerves right now. “Let’s get you home shall we?”

And she smiles at me.  It’s not teasing or sexual or dangerous at all.  It’s soft and gentle and encouraging, but it has me following her into the cool night air just as easily as her teasing smirks had me surrendering to her on the dance floor.  

I’m not sure what the hell I’ve gotten myself into but something tells me it’s going to be more exciting than any book I would have read this weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!!! Let me know what you think of this AU.


	3. Keep It Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU - Yang raises Ruby on her own and finds some welcomed assistance from the new girl in school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No rating/warnings - approved for all audiences. :) enjoy

“Can we make cookies for dessert?”

Ruby’s hopeful voice reaches Yang’s ears where she’s sitting on the couch watching the news.  It’s supposed to rain again the next day, which doesn’t bode well. Another day without pay won’t kill them, but it’s definitely not helping their situation.

“I don’t think so.” Yang flips the channel to some cartoons she knows Ruby likes and returns to the stove where she’s left Ruby in charge of stirring their dinner. “We don’t have the stuff to make cookies.”  Yang looks over her younger sister’s shoulder, approving of the soup’s unburnt appearance and smell. “Good job Ruby, looks delicious.”

“Can I go watch t.v. now?” Ruby asks, dropping the spoon already anticipating her answer.  

“Yeah, go on.”

Taking up the spot Ruby vacates, Yang stirs the mix of meat and vegetables.  There’s decidedly more vegetables than meat and even more broth than vegetables.  But there’s enough to last a few meals which will get them pretty close to payday.  

“Can you not go get stuff for cookies?”

Ruby’s using her puppy dog eyes when Yang turns to acknowledge her.  It hurts, because Yang would love to go out and get the cookie dough, come home and spend the evening making and eating them with Ruby.  She wants to give her sister all the things she deserves, the things that make her happy, the things Yang never got to have. But there’s literally less than a dollar in her bank account.  

“Not today.” Is all Yang can muster to say as she turns back to taste the soup.  The carrots are cooked all the way through so she turns off the stove and grabs a couple bowls from the cupboard.  She dishes them both equal amounts, making sure to pour more broth than anything in her own bowl. Ruby needs the nutrients more than she does, the youngest is still growing after all.  

They eat on the couch, in front of the television, laughing between bites at the cartoon shenanigans on the screen.  When Ruby’s finished Yang grabs her bowl and cleans up the mess dicing vegetables has caused on the kitchen counter. When everything is clean once more Yang glances at the clock on the stove.

“Ruby, it’s time to get ready for bed.”

“No, one more episode!” She’s demanding, which means she’s tired and experience has taught Yang that prolonging the inevitable only results in a larger argument.  

“No, get ready for bed.” Yang uses her stern voice so Ruby knows she means business.  Ruby only has two choices, she can either obey and head to bed or she can use the only other trump card in her deck. She chooses the latter.

“Dad would le-“

“But he’s not here, is he?” Yang cuts her off turning towards her, anger flaring.  He isn’t the one putting a roof over her head. He isn’t the one going to school and holding a full time job just so Ruby doesn’t have to realize how fucked up everything is.  He doesn’t care about them and Yang’s sick of Ruby using him as an excuse to not listen to her.

Ruby dips her head ashamed, but she quickly presses a button on the remote in her hand.  The light from the television disappears and Ruby makes her way silently, sheepishly to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Anger deflating, Yang suddenly feels guilt.  Ruby doesn’t know how bad she struggles, because she never lets it show.  She’s always made a point of not letting her negative emotions show around her younger sibling.  Tai’s bad parenting has already taken its toll on her, she wasn’t about to let it affect Ruby’s innocence too.  Yang just wishes she had more money, a better job, just anything really to have set aside. She really would like to be able to have a nest egg where she could take a little out of to give Ruby the things she asked for.  She really doesn’t ask for much, cookies and small treats. Her requests should be achievable, and Yang is blessed that Ruby’s one that can take enjoyment out of the smallest things.

She sits up for another hour before following her sister to bed.  She might not have work but she still has school in the morning.

 

—-

 

Yang storms out the front doors of the school. She hates her Physics teacher with a passion.  No matter how hard she tries, she just can’t grasp the concepts. She’s good at math, so she has to assume it’s more his teaching methods than anything else, but he continually calls on her for the answers he knows she doesn’t have. She despises being embarrassed that way.  She’s a smart student, has above average grades, but he makes her feel stupid. Yang has enough negative thoughts about herself, enough doubts on if she’s doing things right when it comes to Ruby, she doesn’t need some pompous teacher making her feel worse about herself. She’s debated dropping out to get a second job- it would help with the money situation - but Yang knows that isn’t what’s right for her.  She doesn’t want to be a negative influence on Ruby, and Yang desperately does want to graduate.

She waits for Ruby in the parking lot, beside the beat up rusted junk she calls her car.  It isn’t much, but she needs it to get to her job. Yang doesn’t even want to think of what they would do if it broke down.  She barely has enough for rent and food to last between paydays, what would they do if she had to fork over any more on fixing her junk of a car?

Ruby’s taking longer than usual, probably caught up talking to one of her many friends.  Yang doesn’t mind waiting today, she doesn’t have to work even though the clouds are dispersing.  She’s happy to wait if Ruby’s enjoying herself. Plus, the fact Yang is probably going to have to pull a double shift to make up for the rain impacting the crews completion schedule doesn’t have her excited for tomorrow.  She’s happy to relax at least for one night.

Laughter brings Yang’s attention to a group of girls her own age.  Yang’s seen them around school, a couple may have even been her friends in an earlier lifetime.  There’s also the new girl; Blake was her name. Yang supposes she isn’t really new, having moved into the area the year before, but in their small town where no one moves into or out of she is still the new girl in Yang’s mind.  

She’s nice enough, from the interactions Yang has witnessed her in.  She hasn’t said a negative word to anyone as far as Yang knows, and generally has a positive standing with most students and teachers.  It’s not something that can be said for all of Blake’s friends however.

“Hey orphan, what are you looking at?”  Yang grits her teeth to stop from escalating the situation.  They’ll soon leave.

“She’s not an orphan, Chelsea.” Another speaks up, Yang can’t tell if she’s defending her or just a know-it-all needing to set the facts straight.

“Even worse,” Chelsea supplies, her perfect brunette hair bouncing as she swings her head in Yang’s direction, blue eyes burning with mischief. “Just means Blondie here wasn’t worth sticking around for.”  Her friends snicker at her comment but Yang notices Blake isn’t one of them.

Blake’s eyes switch from her cruel friends to meet Yang’s for the first time.  Her bodies reaction to the eye contact surprises Yang. The girl is pretty, beautiful even, but her eyes are piercing and it unnerves Yang’s usual confidence enough for her to actually take a shuffled step away from the raven haired girl.  She feels something jab sharply into the small of her back and she winces - she’s fallen back onto the mirror of the car behind her.

Blake’s friends roar louder, Yang’s pain adding to their amusement. The ears, so adorably perched atop Blake’s head twitch, one in the direction of her friends and one trained on Yang.  Blake notices they catch Yang’s attention and she narrows her amber eyes, challenging her? Yang isn’t sure what the look means.

“Hey, sis. Let’s go!”  Ruby bounds to the passenger side of the car, brushing unknowingly past the group of girls making Yang their sport. “Hey, can we get that stuff for cookies today?”

Yang shifts her gaze to her sister over the hood of the car. “Not today.”

“That’s what you said yesterday!” She complains.

“Maybe on the weekend.” Yang tries to placate her, noticing they’re still being scrutinized by the group behind Ruby. “Now get in.”

“Can we get ice cream then?” She’s switching treats thinking Yang’s just not into her cookie idea, and Yang would be touched that she’s thinking of her wants but that isn’t the issue.

“Get in the car, Ruby.” Yang tries more sternly.

“Is that a yes?” She asks hopeful.

“It’s a no.  Let’s go.”

“Why not?”

Glancing over Ruby’s shoulder Yang sees the group of girls whispering quietly to each other.  She knows they won’t stay silent for long, and although she’s sure Ruby doesn’t catch on to the reason she’s denying her, Yang knows the others can guess.  She desperately wants Ruby to get in the car before the older girls point out the unpleasant truth but her sister’s being extra stubborn and Yang doesn't want to make more of a scene by going into parental mode.

“Let’s go guys.” Yang’s eyes dart to find the source of the soft voice and she finds it came from Blake.  Amber eyes hold hers for a moment before they shift to her friends. “I need to get home, and you guys are my ride.” And with that Blake turns and walks further down the row of cars.  Her friends pause, but just shoot Yang matching glares before they move to follow their friend.

Ruby asks three more times on the way home before giving up on the idea of any treats that day.  It digs at Yang’s heart every time she has to deny her. She can tell Ruby isn’t pleased at having the same meal as the night before but she thankfully doesn’t voice her displeasure.  

“You have any homework?” Knowing the answer before she even asks.  Ruby is an honours student and always seems to finish any homework in class.

“Nope.”

Yang hums in response and moves to sit at their rarely used kitchen table.  She’s working on one of the Physic questions that stumped her earlier when she hears a knock at the door.  Confused, because they don’t get visitors, Yang quickly panics wondering if she forgot to pay rent but her bank account proves that she has.

Before she can move Ruby is already swinging the door open, like a visitor is a common occurrence.

“Yang, it’s for you.” Ruby calls, still standing at the door, staring at whoever is on the other side.

“What?” Yang stands and takes a step towards the door.

“It’s one of your friends from school.” Her answer confuses Yang even more.  She doesn’t have any friends, but when she steps around her sister she comes face to face with Blake.

“Hello.” Her voice is just as soft and eyes just as piercing as earlier and Yang is having trouble processing.  

“Hi.”  They stand in silence for an awkward moment and even Ruby seems to notice because she speaks up when neither of the older girls seem to be in a hurry to do so.

“Do you want to come in?” Ruby asks, opening the door wider. “I like your ears by the way.”

“Ruby!” Yang scolds, tearing her eyes from Blake to shoot her sister a disapproving look.

“What?” She asks perplexed. “They’re cute, don’t you think?”

“I-“ Yang turns back to the girl in their doorway, looking for any signs that she’s been affronted by Ruby’s unfiltered nature.  She can’t help but glance up at the ears Ruby has just mentioned. They twitch ever so slightly and Yang can feel her face heat up because yes, they are completely adorable.  

Blake’s melodious laughter fills the room and Yang meets her eyes once more.  They’re less penetrating than before, more gentle in their scrutinizing of the two sisters.

“I was hoping you two would like to join me for some ice cream.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Ruby is already shoving her feet into her shoes before the words can even process fully in Yang’s mind.

“I don’t think-“

“My treat.” Blake cuts her off, giving Yang a pointed look before softening her gaze and looking to Ruby.

“Does that mean I can’t get my usual?” Yang’s about to tell her to just get a normal cone instead of the giant monstrosity she usually gets but Blake speaks up before she can.

“You can get whatever you want.  I’m getting an extra large sundae so I’d rather not look like a pig on my own.”

Ruby squeals and rushes passed Blake, already bounding down the stairs. “Hurry up Yang!” She calls over her shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this.” Yang states but shoves her feet in her shoes anyway.  Ruby isn’t going to take no for an answer now.

“I know, but I want to.” Is Blake’s simple reply.

“Why? You don’t even know us.” Yang asks, stepping out into the hall, locking the door behind them.  “And how did you even know where we live?”

Blake chuckles. “Your car is pretty easy to recognize, and I only needed to knock on a few doors to find out which one is yours.”

“There’s no privacy in this world anymore.” Yang grits, glaring at the neighbours doors they pass, slowly following Ruby’s path.

Blake’s soft laugh at her comment pulls a smile from Yang.

“You know.” Blake speaks up, smiling coyly. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“What? I smile.” Yang defends.

“Not that I’ve seen, but you should definitely do it more often.”

“Huh?”

“You look really pretty when you smile.” She laughs again at Yang’s dumbfounded look. “And to answer your earlier question, I want to do this because I have younger siblings as well.  I know what it’s like to want to protect them from things, and how much it sucks when you can’t. Everyone needs some help here and there.” She shrugs as you both bound down the flight of stairs.  “I have some food in the trunk of my car if you’d like it. We can move it to your car later so Ruby doesn’t have to know.”

“I can’t-“

“I’d be more upset if you refused, but I’ll understand if you do.”

Ruby is jumping with excitement as they both emerge from the building.  Yang catches the amused smile on Blake’s face at her sister’s antics. She’s glad Blake seems to be enjoying her sister’s energy instead of being annoyed by it like some people.  

“My car’s parked at the end there Ruby.” Blake speaks up giving Ruby a destination.

“Oh my- Yang, it’s black and purple!” She squeals. “It’s so cool.”

“I’ll pay you back.” Yang says once Ruby is out of earshot.

“No need,” Opening her mouth to argue Blake beats her to it. “Though if you must, I am in the search of new friends, my current ones are getting on my nerves.”

“Oh yeah?” Yang smirks.  

“Yeah, they’re definitely too bitchy for my taste.”

It pulls a genuine laugh from her and it feels good, she’s been faking enough of them lately.  When her attention returns to the raven-haired girl Yang notices how surprised the other looks. Her mouth is parted and eyes wide, ears perked straight up atop her head.  

“Wow,” Blake whispers and Yang raises a brow in question. “You should definitely do _that_ more often too.”

“Come on,” Yang blushes, motioning towards Ruby waiting not at all patiently by Blake’s car. “If we don’t hurry you’re going to see the full wrath of my sister.”

“She’s tiny, what can she possibly do?” Blake laughs.

“Honestly?” Yang feins terror. “You do not want to find out.”

Blake rolls her eyes but moves into a jog. “Then we better hurry.” 

Yang laughs again, but follows suit.  The smile Blake shoots her over her shoulder at the sound of her laughter has Yang promising to do it more.  

Anything to have Blake look at her like that again


	4. Sweets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter the troubles that develope in Blake’s life, Yang will always be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No need for any ratings... general audience welcome.

Blake was eight when she was forced away from the safety of her home and thrust into an environment altogether unknown.  Absent from her home, friends, and family everything had an unpleasant sinister feel to it. She was the only faunus in her new school which meant she became the target of ridicule all due to her oddities she could not control.  The words, insults, and slurs she’d only a half-grasped meaning of delivered with the angry voices of her peers upset her. The physical torment was worse, however. Words she could ignore, become numb to, but the sharp elbows, the quick feet shoved to block and trip her and rough, unmerciful hands that grabbed for her ears, just to make sure they were real, had Blake running to find a hiding spot at recess.  

There was only one spot on the playground secluded and hidden enough. Blake rushed to the ball diamond’s furthest dugout wishing only to hold her tears off long enough for her to out of sight from her tormentors.  

She hadn’t expected the spot to already be occupied, but it was too late to turn to look for another.  Her tears broke free, salted streams tickling their way down her cheeks. The blonde girl remained, sitting in the grass cross-legged, leaning back on the metal of the dugout.  She observed her unexpected visitor silently and all Blake could do was wait for the slurs, the names, the hurtful words to fall from the other girl’s lips. 

Instead she raised her hand, reaching out to Blake.  It took her a moment to blink burning tears from her vision enough to realize the girl was holding something.  Blake tentatively took the offered gift; a fruit gummy. Blake stared at it for the longest time, expecting a trick, not believing anyone in the school could be so kind.  

The other girl held out another one, refusing to drop her hand until Blake grasped it as well.  New treasure in hand Blake gently sat beside her, taking in the girl’s blonde hair and violet eyes now that her vision was returning as her tears dried.  She smiled gently at Blake before popping a red gummy into her own mouth. 

Blake took her time chewing both gifts, savouring the fruity, sugared taste.  

When the bell rang they made their way back to the school.  Blake hung a few steps behind wondering if she should ask the girl’s name, but as they stepped through the doors she turned the wrong way, leaving Blake to make her way to class alone.

 

————

 

She doesn’t care if it’s past curfew or that she’ll more than likely be in shit later. She just can’t stay here one more second.  She rushes out the front door, slamming it hard behind her on Mary’s demanding voice calling her back. Blake starts running, letting her legs carry her through the familiar streets. Her vision is blurred by angered tears and she blinks them away furiously.  They aren’t worth it. But the more she repeats the phrase in her head the more her eyes burn. 

When she slows she finds herself at the elementary school.  She’s not sure why she always seems to find her way here, why the tightness in her chest unravels just a little bit at the sight, why her breaths come just a little easier as she takes in the grass smell making her way across the field. She’s not sure completely sure why this place is able to unburden her a little but she’s glad her feet keep carrying her here.

Blake drops to sit on one of the vacant swings and kicks her feet out.  The world gently sways around her as she focuses on her breathing. The wet trails on her cheeks dry and Blake shivers int he coolness of the night air.  Her eyesight clears about the same time a pair of yellow converse shoes come into view. 

She’d recognize them anywhere, but their presence confuses her.  How would Yang know where to find her. But Yang answers at her questioning gaze before Blake can voice the query.

“Your last message…” Yang takes a deep breath before calmly sitting on the swing beside her. “I had a feeling you might need to escape there for a few hours. So I thought I would see if you were here.”  Yang is silent for a few long moments before quietely broaching the subject. “How bad is it really?”

“He ruined all of them.”

“All?” Blake can hear the anger in her voice, but she’s so far past angry. 

“Every last sketch. He ripped every single one.”  Her breath hitches and she takes the time to wipe his face from her mind.  “My whole portfolio is ruined. I’ll have to start all over again.”

“That took you months, he ca-“ Yang cuts herself off and it’s so unlike her that Blake finds herself turning to her neighbour for answers.  “You’re keeping your new portfolio at my house from now on but I can’t believe Adam would do that even after what you did for him the other day?”

“I think in some twisted way he did it because of what I did for him.” Blake sighs.

“You saved him from a beating and he ruins your entire art school portfolio?” 

“I made him look weak.” Blake’s jaw tightens and her teeth clench painfully together.  “He was teaching me a  _ lesson _ .”

Yang’s mouth opens and closes as she sways side to side, chains of the swing rattle above her.

“Blake, I want to help.”

“You can’t!” Blake takes a deep breath knowing she’s trying. “He’ll be eighteen in a month and will no longer be a ward of the state and I’ll never have to see him again.” She kicks at a small pebble on the ground, watches as it skips thought the grass. “And in a few more months time you won’t have to worry about me anymore. I won’t be a burden to you after I graduate.”

Yang sighs.  She stands taking Blake’s hand leading her across the field.  They round a familiar corner and suddenly Blake is taken back.  It seems another lifetime, yet she remembers the exact fear she’d felt their first meeting.  The comfort and happiness every other encounter elicited in her back then; the same feelings Yang has always, and still makes her feel.

“You always let me have the red ones.” She says head shaking side to side gently.

“They were your favourite.” Blake shrugs.

“But they were yours too.” Blake hadn’t ever told her that.  It was true of course. She always had a preference for the same ones as Yang, but it never felt right to take a single one, especially when it was Yang who chose to share them with her in the first place. “I made a vow back then you know.”

“A Vow?” She asks, confused at what an eight year old could possibly know about vows.

“I had this romanticized notion that because you let me have the red gummies…” She chuckles. “That it meant you were the love of my life.” Her smile is gentle and reminiscent of those recesses spent in near silence together.  “Can you imagine?” She asks, though Blake knows she’s not expecting an answer. “Basing a feeling as strong as love on a snack.”

“That would be too easy.”

“True,” Yang looks to the spot where the ghosts of your past selves can almost still be seen sitting side by side, passing fruit snacks between tiny hands. “My vow.” Violet orbs meet yours. “Was to always be at your side.”

“Yang.” Blake’s barely able to choke out, consumed by Yang’s words.  She’d like to brush them off as a child’s fantasy but the way Yang keeps her gaze and the resolute tone to her voice tells Blake that she still means it.  Yang still believes in her eight year old self’s vow.

Before she can find an argument to bring forth Yang is pulling her back around the dugout, hand still firmly gripping her own.

“I may have first thought I’d love you there, but that’s not where I fell in love with you.”

“Yang?”

“You were gentle and caring enough to give me every one of your favourite snacks, even though - had you asked - I would have given them to you freely. But you were also strong and determined enough to walk back into that house every night, even though you knew how much pain awaited you there.”  Yang’s voice lowers and Blake has to focus to not miss a word. “And you never let that kill your gentle side. When you stood up for him, your tormentor, where he deserved none of your protection, just because it was the right thing to do… I couldn’t not fall in love with you in that moment.” Her feet halt and Blake’s follow a split second later.  “Right here.” She turns to smile brightly at you. “This is where you stood, berating and chasing off those stupid boys. This is where I fell in love with you… or where I finally realized that I had fallen at some point.”

“Yang, I-”

“I don’t have to say it back Blake.  That’s not why I’m telling you.” Yang runs her hand through her hair. “I just want you to know there’s someone in this world that loves you and will always be here for you.” She makes a point to meet Blakes eye before continuing. Turning to pull Blake back to the swing set they’d vacated not long before “That no matter what, no matter what demons you’re battling or pain you’re in, I’ll always do my best to keep you safe…and happy if I can.”

“You do make me happy, Yang.” Blake pours all the emotion she can into those words. She wants Yang to know how important she is to her.  But she’s never been very good at verbally expressing her emotions. “You’re about the only person on this God forsaken planet that does, or that I do feel safe with.”

It’s then, as she bends to retrieve it, that Blake notices Yang’s backpack is leaning up against the pole of the swing’s rusted metal frame.  Yang grabs for it, loosening the ties to allow her access. 

“I was going to wait the two days until Valentine's Day but this seems like as good of time as any.” Yang says as she pulls a small container out of the bag.  It has a pink bow wrapped around it. Yang hands it to her with a smile. “Happy early Valentine’s Day, Blake.”

This is the last thing Blake expects to find when she left her foster care home.  Even if she’d been expecting Yang to show up, she never would have thought she’d bring her a present. Carefully she pulls on the ribbon and watches as the material easily fell away. Lifting the lid she couldn’t help but giggle.  Inside was filled to the brim with gummy candy, all of them red.

“I wanted to ask if you’d be mine?” The hope in her voice is palpable and Blake knows it would kill her to refuse. 

“Of course, we’re always eachother’s Valentines.” Blake smiles grabbing one of the gummies bringing it to her lips.  It has been an unspoken rule as far back as Blake can remember. No one ever seemed to catch either of Blake or Yang’s attention during the holiday.  They’d each had their fair share of offers that they’d turned down, nothing seeming more favourable than a day spent in each others company. 

“That’s good to know.” Yang ducks her head, staring at herr shoes before she gains the courage to look Blake in the eye again. “But I didn’t mean as just my Valentine this year.”

“I don’t g-“

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Yang asks hurriedly.  She scratches the back of her right wrist with her left hand, a nervous tick she’s had for as long as they’ve been friends. “It’s really okay if you’d rather not.  I understand why you wouldn’t want-“ she winces at whatever she was about to voice. “I mean if you’d rather just stay friends than I won’t have a problem keeping everything ju-“

Blake can’t take it anymore, her rambling although cute is only working Yang up into a more nervous state.  Her poor wrist was going to be sore with how she was worrying it. Blake’s hand gently falls to still Yang’s fidgeting and not a second later her lips descend to stop the others running mouth.  The surprised sound that Yang makes the second their lips meet might just be the cutest thing Blake has ever heard. When she pulls away Yang’s eyes are glazed and she has the most adorable grin playing on her lips.

“Does that mean-“ Blake presses her lips quickly to Yang’s once more.  She was always better with showing than telling. When Yang just stares at her but doesn’t say anything more Blake starts to worry.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking is all.”

“About?”

“How I’m going to miss those red sweets.”

Blake rolls her eyes. “We can share them, Yang. Just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m going to demand all your favourite snacks.”

A tongue pokes out from Yang’s mouth and brushes slowly along her lower lip. “But they taste so much better on your lips.”

Yang’s laughter fills the night air as Blake’s face heats up.  She wants to be mad at Yang for poking fun at her but when strong arms encircle her she can feel the mirthful spasms transfer from Yang’s body to hers and it pulls a smile from Blake instead of a scowl.  

Besides how can she be mad at Yang when she was willing to give up her candy in hopes of using the excuse to kiss her more?

“Happy early Valentine’s Blake.” Yang whispers into her hair.

Blake tucks her head more firmly under Yang’s chin. “Happy early Valentine’s Yang.”


	5. Three Card Monte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang interrupts Blake’s grifting on the streets taking her for all she has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings. All audiences. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Reluctantly you hand over another forty dollars to the girl in front of you.  

“You have a tell.” She smiles pocketing it just as she’s done to your entire day’s worth of hard earned money.

“I do not!” You’re insulted, because you  _ are _ really good at what you do.  You make a pretty decent living hustling people on the street.  There’s no way you have a tell, you’re better than that. The only reason she’s been winning is because she’s just getting lucky… eight straight games in a row.

She laughs, handing you more money, your money that she’s cheated you out of. “Let’s go again then.”

You show her the queen of hearts among the two black jacks folded lengthwise, mimicking tiny tents pitched on the small table you have balanced on a trash can.  She nods her head but doesn’t even look to see where you’ve placed the winning one she’ll have to find. You focus on shuffling the three cards, using your practiced hands to swap the queen from one position to the next, tricking the eyes of your victims into choosing the wrong one.  You’ve never had to use the illusion more than twice in any shuffle to trip anyone up but the desperate way you want her to fail has you flicking your wrist half a dozen times with practiced ease. Satisfied you let the cards rest in a line, stepping back you offer the cards to the girl. 

She’s watching you with those laughing lilac eyes when you glance up and you realize she hasn’t been looking at the cards at all.  All your effort has been in vein.

“Choose.”  You state, less cordial than your usual tone would be had she been any other — should you call them customers? Patrons? Victims?

Her hand hovers over each card but she’s very obviously not looking at the cards.  She wants you to know she has no clue where the queen is. She’s trying to prove you have a tell.  You don’t care how confident or cocky she’s being, she’s not going to succeed because you do not have a—

“This one?” She lifts one card, not even looking at it she turns it towards you.

The queen of hearts stares mockingly back at you.  She doesn’t need a verbal answer, the scowl forming on your face is enough confirmation for her.  

Her smirk is all smarm and taunting humour.  She delights in your misery. You reach into your back pocket and hand her another twenty.  You feel how thin your cash roll has become in the past half hour and you decide to pack up, there’s no sense in sticking around to lose what little you have left. Sighing, you fold up your makeshift table.

“Hey, I wanted another go.”  You scoff but glance at the girl who’s taken almost a month’s worth of your grocery money.  You feel yourself resign to the thought of soup and noodles for the foreseeable future. Your disappointment and anger at the girl unfortunately doesn’t diminish her radiance.  Well aware of how attracted you were to her the moment she approached, you’d originally planned to to ask for her number, but that’s out of the question now. It’s a shame, she’s beautiful and happens to be taller than you, and that’s something you’ve always been a sucker for. “I think you were going to win the next one.”

Scowling you make a move to walk around her, hearing her laughter ring out as you do.  If there’s one thing you hate more than losing it’s being mocked. 

“Double or nothing?” She asks, following you when it’s clear she’ll get no answer.  The shuffling of multiple feet in your direction brings you to the horrifying realization you two now have an audience.  You hadn’t noticed and blame her for distracting you with her eyes and smile. “All or nothing? Everything I have against whatever’s left in your pocket? I’m sure that’s a good deal for you.”

You know it is.  You’re not sure how much she had on her originally, but the money she’s won from you is more than what’s left in your pocket.  But losing what little you do have will cut into your rent and take away that  _ delicious _ soup you’re looking forward to.  You hesitate though, a break in your step and she notices, pouncing at the opening.

“Double what I have against what you do?”

Spinning to face her and the dozen others that have congregated, you ask. “How can you offer double what you have?”

She smiles triumphantly turning to the crowd.  “Who here wants to make some easy money?” A young man breaks from the crowd, reaching for his wallet.  She smiles and ushers him forward with soft fingers on his wrist. He follows, obvious in his blatant leering of the blonde’s — attributes, as he brings up the rear.  They combine their money and the girl waves the wad of cash in your face. You can’t not take the bait. It would help you tremendously. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about making it to the end of the month with that in your pocket.  Deciding the chance at such a great amount is worth you possibly losing the hundred bucks you have left in your pocket, you find yourself nodding to the terms.

You set the game back up and show the queen of hearts to both her and the young man.  His concentration on the cards as you shuffle is what you’ve become accustomed to. She, however, turns to comment on a bag one of the ladies has in the crowd.  

Only when you’re finished does she return, eyes sparkling with mischief.  She lets him ponder which one could possibly be correct before leaning over his shoulder.

“Which one do you think?” She asks.

He smiles, unbelievably cocky and points to one of the cards.  “It’s definitely this one.”

“You sure?” She scrutinizes his choice than looks to you.  Her smile widens. “Actually, I think it’s this one.” She points to the card next to the one he’s chosen.  Her eyes test you once more before she nods. “Yup, definitely this one.”

“You’re positive?” He asks.  

She shrugs. “It’s all a gamble really, but she has a tell and I haven’t been wrong yet.”

Not wanting to go against her, who has bested you nine times already, he taps his finger finally to the far right card.  You lift it up, face towards them, knowing it’s the jack of clubs. His shoulders sink as he turns to his accomplice. 

“You said you were sure.”

She looks absolutely dumbfounded.  She can’t believe whatever tell she thought you had has failed.  You want to laugh because it means she didn’t really know what card was right.  She was just getting lucky. 

“I think she played me.” Lilac eyes darken to violet as her exuberant mood shifts to suspicion and anger.  She scoffs, throwing the wad of cash onto your table. Turning she pushes her way through the crowd and disappears.  The man whose money you’re stuffing into your jeans also vanishes into the scattering crowd. 

Folding up the table once more you decide to head home.  You feel good, good enough to maybe order a cheap pizza because you definitely deserve it.  You step lighter now, as you walk down the street, a pocket full of cash.

“I think you owe me.” A voice speaks up behind you. You spin, recognizing it.  She saunters out from a covered doorway making a beeline straight for you. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Oh come on!” She exclaims. “You didn’t really think you won on a fluke?”

You eye her, not sure if this is a trick or not.  She seemed angry for losing earlier, but now she’s back to smiling as if the money she lost was already long forgotten.

“Are you saying you knew the card you chose was wrong?”

“Yup.” 

Rolling your eyes you ask, “So I would have lost if you let him pick the card he wanted, huh?” 

“No, that card was wrong too.  He would have lost either way.”

She’s right.  

“If you knew that then why make him change his choice?”

“Because although he was going to lose either way, me choosing the wrong one allowed for my dramatic departure.”

“You did it so you could throw a temper tantrum?”  If true, this girl was all drama that you don’t need.

“Well, did you see how he was looking at me? Lost money or not he was aiming for a date and I didn’t plan that whole charade just to end up going to dinner with him.”

“Okay.” You stare at her because you really truly do not know what she expects you to do with the information.

“You have nearly two hundred more in your pocket than you did before I showed up.” She waits for you to agree, and it’s useless to argue, she knows exactly how much money you have. “That’s not bad for half an hours work.”

Finally able to process the words she’s said to you when she first approached, you catch onto what she’s doing here.  Eyes narrowing you square your shoulders defensively.

“And you want your cut?”

“Yup.”

“How much?”

“I already told you.” She smiles, taking another step closer, invading your personal space. Your body twitches as it takes way too much energy to hold your ground. You’re ready to bolt. “I didn’t do this to go to dinner with  _ him. _ ”

“Wait... what?”

“Come on,” she says spinning to look at the storefronts surrounding you. “I’m new here.  What’s a good place to grab a bite to eat?”

“You’re serious?” You ask confused, but slightly amused.  It’s hard to believe the girl not only played the crowd, but played you as well.

“Uh huh.” she returns her attention to you once again.  

“Well, depends on what you’re in the mood for really.”  You rack your brain trying to remember if anyone has recommended a decent restaurant in the area, because besides cheap pizza and the occasional burger you don’t really have the funds to eat out all that often. “I think there’s an italian restaurant up the street and there’s a sushi place around the corner.”

“Sushi?” She asks. “I haven’t had that in forever. Let’s go there.”

“Let’s, as in you and me?”

She laughs, shaking her head and her wild golden main shifts and sways with her movements.

“Well I didn’t put on that charade to have dinner alone either.” Her hand is on the cardboard table you’re carrying and before you can react she is gallantly taking it from your hand.  “You do like sushi right?”

A scoff is pulled from your throat. “I’m a cat faunus, what do you think?”

“I don’t know.” She responds softly, taking in your appearance, including the ears stretching skyward.  “I don’t like to form assumptions on someone based on appearances.”

It takes you aback.  Most people do the exact opposite.  They judge and condemn or follow and praise all based on first impressions, usually skin deep.  For the first time you really take in the taller girl, not just the physical beauty but the way she’s standing.  She appears confident with her shoulders held back and head held high, but she’s swaying slightly from one foot to the other and the muscles of her lower jaw are clenching ever so slightly.  Thinking of the young man who was willing to lose so much of his money to impress her has you wondering how many of those types of interactions she has in any given day. How many see her tall, toned body and alluring facial features and end up making snap decisions about her?  Being blonde in itself has the stereotypical negative connotations involving intelligence. 

Maybe she knows more about how it feels to be judged by her body and not her mind than you think.  Maybe you’re making unfair snap decisions about her and you hadn’t even noticed.

“I do,” your voice is soft but it carries easily to her ears a few feet away. “I love sushi, but I really shouldn’t be-“

“Because I’m a girl and not attractive to you?”

“Now who’s making the assumptions.” Shooting her words back in her face feels like a huge accomplishment, especially with all the different reactions you get to see flash across her face.  She finally settles on a goofy grin.

“So…”

“So?”

“You are attracted to me?” She bites her bottom lip nervously. 

“Let’s just say-“ You motion for her to follow as you cross the street, she immediately falls in step beside you. “-that before you took all my money, making an enemy of me, I had planned on getting your number.”

“Really?” Laughing at her shocked expression you nod. “How were you planning on getting it?”

You smile, holding the door to the sushi restaurant open for her.

“If this date goes well, you’ll find out.”

“If this is an official date I guess I’ll be paying.”

“What? No.” You’re confused.  “I thought you said I owed you?” 

“To come on a date with me, not to buy me dinner.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.” Although you are loathe to spend much money on anything and sushi is expensive it still doesn’t seem right that she pay when she’s just earned you so much extra money. 

“You can get next time.” 

She walks through the door, but not before shooting you a wink over her shoulder.  How can such a simple act give you butterflies?

Had she said next time?  There’s going to be a next time and her knowing that already kind of excites you.  

You follow her into the restaurant as something dawns on you.

“Hey, what even is your name?”

She just laughs and says you’ll have to guess. Something tells you nothing is going to come easy with her.  

You’re kind of looking forward to figuring her out.


	6. Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake comes home for a pleasant surprise after a long day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature for sexual content ;)

You’ve never been so glad for the end of the day as today.  Staying two hours past close to finish up the end of month reports was always horrible, and although you keep thinking it’s only once a month and not so bad, the crick in your neck from leaning over the charts and the slight headache you have from staring at numbers so long has worn you out.  

The sight of your apartment building coming into view as you round the corner is your body’s queue to fully feel its exhaustion it seems.  Your shoulders sag and your once sure footfalls are now sluggish and the sound of your soles skimming the pavement keeps interrupting your thoughts of drifting off between cool sheets surrounded by Yang’s familiar scent.  You wish she could be there to wrap you in her arms as you sleep but she won’t be back from visiting Ruby for another night. She’s promised you a night out, knowing you’d need a little _ pampering _ -as she called it- after today.  

You’re lethargic as you unlock the apartment door and throw your back on the chair closest to you.  Keys are discarded haphazardly onto the table next and their  _ clang  _  as they land has your head pounding and you wince, hissing slightly.  You’re glad Yang isn’t here, her cat jokes would not be welcomed in this moment.  It’s usually sweet the way she points out your catlike attributes with her teasing.  You know it’s all out of love, but you just hate how irritable a headache makes you. Snapping at her would be the last thing you want. 

Making your way to the bedroom to undress is next on your list.  You are in dire need of a hot shower and then sleep. Lots of sleep. You inhale deeply as you step through the door.  Just the scent of her calms your nerves more than any hot shower would be capable of. Not bothering to turn on the lights, as you can see decently well without it, you make your way to your dresser.  You pull out an old shirt of hers you’ve become accustomed to sleeping in while she’s away and lay it on the bed. Pausing, you debate skipping the shower to fall straight into bed. It looks so inviting.  The internal debate is loud enough companied by the throbbing making its home in your skull that you don’t hear or sense the change. Before you’re aware your not alone there is something blocking your sight.  Its cool and soft, and even with the slight panic at your sight being taken from you so suddenly, it feels amazing against the heated skin your headache has caused. It soothes the throbbing. Survival instincts don’t kick in and you would be more worried about that if you didn’t notice why they were absent.  There’s a pull at the back of your head where a knot is tied in the fabric blinding you and then her arms are snaking their way around your waist. Her chin rests on your right shoulder and her familiar strong breaths brush against your ear and jawline. 

Her scent is strong and comforting and you’re surprised you hadn’t known she was here before.  She doesn’t say anything, but her hands are tugging at the hem of your shirt, they pull at the fabric, releasing it from its confines tucked into the skirt you’re wearing.  Pressing tighter into your back, you can feel her every curve and your breath catches as the fingers of her one hand press against your throat. 

Tilting your head back you give her better access. Her thumb brushes along your larynx, pressing firm enough to cause you to swallow before her hand lowers to release the button at your collar.  Her fingers work deftly all the way down your front, while her other seems to have sneaked up, underneath the fabric, and is now warming the skin below your navel. 

When the buttons are completely undone you feel her hands leave you briefly. You already miss their warmth.  The fabric is gently pulled down your shoulders, baring them to the cool air in the room. As if sensing your discomfort in temperature she quickly releases the clasp of your bra and presses her body close once more as she trails the backs of her fingers from your neck to the bones protruding at the tip of each shoulder, her short nails just enough to release a shiver, not caused by the cold, to travel down your spine.  The straps of your bra fall down your arms with her actions and you hear its soft  _ thud _ onto the floor at your feet.  

You have so many questions swimming through your head. Why is she back early? Why didn’t she warn you? How was her trip? How was Ruby, Weiss, the rest of the gang? But the most important one, the one you shoved all the rest aside for was… 

What was she going to do to you next?

You don’t have to wait long.  She knows you too well to linger.  She knows your brain is already spinning and if she hesitates too long you won’t be able to help but voice what’s on your mind.  Neither of you want to stop whatever this is to talk about her sister right now. 

Both her hands ghost down your ribs, near enough to tickling to cause tiny tremors to erupt across your skin.  Her fingers press harder into your flesh as one hand travels along your abs and up the dip below your ribcage before traveling up your sternum between your breasts. Her fingers trace the outline of your breasts at the same time her mouth descends on your skin for the first time.  You cry out in surprise as the sudden sensation of her lips and tongue on the pulse at your neck. She sucks hard enough to cause a dull pain -making you gasp- before her tongue travels along the forming bruise to soothe its angry throbbing. Her lips turn gentle, soothing a trail along your one shoulder and back up to gently take your earlobe into her mouth.  As she places a soft lingering kiss below your ear her hand is suddenly moving to cup one of your breasts. Her fingers circle a nipple and tug once gently and then again harder. You gasp as your back bends, leaning further into her sturdy presence at the same time thrusting your chest further into her touch. 

Her lips are back to attacking your neck.  Her teeth make surprise appearances as she nips a trail along your jaw.  So preoccupied are you with her mouth and one hand you’ve lost track of the other. That is until you feel her fingers brush against your clit.  You really don’t know how she’s been able to her hand past your skirt and panties without your knowledge but it’s a puzzle you don’t mind leaving unsolved.  

You moan as her fingers work against you and you hear her almost growl of approval when she realizes just how wet you are for her already.  Your hips thrust into her hand of their own will and she pulls back, removing her hand. You groan, missing the friction already. You know she’s not cruel enough to work you up and not finish the job. You literally don’t think she’s capable of denying you.  

Skirt and panties are quickly removed by her experienced hands. She’s undressed you enough to know where the zippers and clasps are to all your clothes.  When there’s not a single piece of fabric covering your skin besides what she’s used as a blindfold she finally speaks.

“On your stomach. Get comfortable.”

She guides you the few steps to the bed and you crawl your way up to the pillows.  You don’t dare remove the blindfold, as you know she would have removed it if she wanted to.  When you’re settled you feel the bed dip as she straddles your hips, and soon her warm hands are running up and down your back, warming the skin.  Her thumbs dig in deeper following your spine up to the back of your neck. You moan, this time needing a different kind of release. Her hands and fingers thoroughly work the muscles of your back, shoulders, and neck until the headache you once had reduces into a barely noticeable dull ache.  You sigh as her fingers soften, having finished their job. She draws designs on your back and down your arms and you think you’d be able to just fall asleep like this, if it wasn’t for that other need she’d awoken in you earlier. Your hips squirm beneath hers and you become aware how in need you are for her hands to be elsewhere on your body.  

She leans over you and you can feel her bared, hardened nipples brush against your exposed back.  You don’t know when she’s found the time to undress but it’s not an important enough question to ask right now.  

Her mouth is on your skin once more, travelling from the base of your neck, down between your shoulder blades, and further into the dip at the small of your back.  Her body shifts back, shimmying off your hips. Without words her hands ask -no, tell- you to roll over, and you do as your commanded. Her fingers interlace with your left hand and she guides your arm up above you pinning it to the pillow.  There’s another piece of fabric wrapping around your wrist, the texture close in comparison the that of your still present blindfold. And then she does the same for your right wrist. You tug at them both experimentally when she’s done and notice they are secured to the headboard and you can barely being either one of your hands passed your chin.

Yang hovers over your body and you spread your legs to allow her more comfort to remain close.  Her nipples are hard as they press into your own smaller mounds, but she’s finally waited long enough and she kisses you for real.  Her tongue traces your lower lip and you open up to her without question, needing all of her just as much as you know she needs you.  Her tongue slips past yours and you can’t hold back the moan, you don’t want to. She loves hearing you after all. You try to bring your hands to run through her hair, to run your nails down the nape of her neck like she loves, but with your constraints you can’t reach her.  She smiles into the kiss as she backs away.

“I had planned to make you wait.” she whispers in your ear before engulfing it’s lobe in her mouth.  Her teeth bite down on the softness enough for pain and pleasure to shoot down your spine to your hips, which buck up into her.  The little amount of pressure you feel isn’t near enough to appease you. “But I can see you’ve had a long day, and you just need release.”

“Please.” you whine, not caring how desperate you sound.  She’ll know soon enough just how desperate she’s made you.  

Her mouth descends along your collarbone before engulfing one peak into her mouth.  She sucks on your erect nipple and again you cry out. As she works her way to the other nipple to lavish it with the same attention, her fingers are suddenly on you again, where you need them the most.  Desperation and need have your hips rolling into her touch.

“Fuck,” she breathes, realizing you’ve only become more wet with the wait. Air from her mouth causing your nipple to harden almost painfully.  She knows, by the slight hiss that escapes you, what it is that causes the discomfort and she uses her expert tongue to soothe the ache. Swirling her tongue around it’s tip.  Her fingers are inside of you now, thrusting in rhythm to your rolling hips. Her lips trail a line passed your navel and stop to focus on the dip on the inside of your hip. She knows it drives you crazy when her mouth works at that spot.  She doesn’t disappoint as her tongue and teeth work to bruise the skin there. She sucks harder as she curls her fingers deep inside of you and you can’t help calling her name at the sudden pleasure it elicits from your body. 

“Yang.”

She knows you’re close but you also know her well enough, that she won’t let the night finish without having had the chance to taste you.  As the thought leaves your brain her lips detach from the bruised area only to attach to an even more sensitive one. Her tongue slides easily through your slickness, and she has no trouble finding the bundle of nerves that will undoubtedly send you over the edge.  You partially can’t believe how quickly she’s built you up to that ledge, but she also knows your body, almost better than yourself. 

Yang’s lips wrap around your clit in a soft kiss, and you try once more to run your fingers through that lovely hair.  You are getting frustrated with these ties. Instead of urging her with your hands you urge her with your voice and hips. Moaning, begging, whimpering, with one and thrusting with the other.  

Her tongue strokes get firmer, faster. As her fingers remain at their steady pace, curling inside you with every third thrust.  It’s enough to cause you to tumble over the edge. You wrap your hands around the fabric, only needing something to hold onto. You can’t breathe for the span of several minutes as your hips spasm and shockwave after shockwave strike you.  If you hadn’t already been blindfolded you know you’d be blinded by the the white lightening that flashes even behind your closed eyes.

You gasp in air and try to lower your racing heart but you realize Yang’s fingers are still working.  They are curling with every thrust and are hitting that spot perfectly. You moan once more, deep in your throat, knowing it’s not over.  She knows your clit will be sensitive so she only presses her thumb against it lightly, barely noticeable. Your hips start moving again and in this way thrusting into her hand and thumb you can control the pressure her thumb puts on your clit.  You’re getting close again and you know by the build up and past experiences the second one is always more powerful. 

Her lips latch onto the inside of your thigh, needing a job to do. It distracts you from the building pressure for only a moment before it adds to it.  There is a couple minutes of you being in that blissfully painful limbo. On the verge of falling but still something is keeping you grounded, not quite letting you soar.  There is a split second where you think maybe the days stressors have affected you enough that you won’t be able to finish a second time, but then Yang’s teeth are replacing her lips on your thigh.  She doesn’t just nibble, she bites down and you know it’s hard enough it’s going to leave more of a mark than just a hickey. But the pain mixes with your pleasure and it’s enough to not just push you off the edge once more but to throw you off with such force your hips leave the bed. Yang has to kneel to be able to follow your movements, to keep her fingers still inside you pressing that magic spot with enough force to allow you to ride out the best of your orgasm without it ending too soon.  

It feels like minutes, but you know it’s only seconds where you can’t breathe.  Your lungs do not want to work. Even your moans and whimpers have stopped, trying now to gain the oxygen that your lungs so desperately need.

Yang guides your body back to the mattress and crawls up your body, leaving soft ghost kisses along the way.  You can barely feel it but know that’s what she’s doing, because that’s how she always brings you back down to earth to be with her once more.  You feel a tug at each if your wrists and you're finally able to curl your arms around her. 

You almost drift off before Yang is tugging at your body.  You follow in a half daze, sitting up. She lifts you from the bed and carries you to the bathroom.  You must have dozed off after that last orgasm because she has a bath ready for you. You don’t think you are awake enough to take a bath but can’t seem to voice it, knowing she ran the water and lit the candles just for you.  She lowers you into the tub and you are about to lean back into the porcelain when her hand stops you. She climbs in behind you, a leg on either side of your hips, protruding from the water, and she wraps her arms around your waist, just below your breasts. You lean into her and rest your head comfortably on her collar, turning to bury your face below her chin.  

“Rest,” she says, tracing designs into your skin and the warmth of the water, smell of her, the feel of her presence and her touch lull you into sleep faster than you would have thought possible


End file.
